


A Wedding In Eight Parts

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Established Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, F/M, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings, Sherlock-centric, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wedding Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 14:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4964245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight moments leading up to and during the wedding of William Sherlock Scott Holmes and Margaret Elizabeth Hooper, as experienced by the groom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Wedding In Eight Parts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NSquared](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NSquared/gifts), [IdrisSmith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdrisSmith/gifts), [mellovesall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellovesall/gifts), [Sherlolly2015](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlolly2015/gifts), [PMarq](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PMarq/gifts).



> So I asked for a lot of paragraph fic prompts from my Tumblr followers consisting of a ship, a word/a few words and the number 1, 2 or 3, and I got a ton of Sherlolly prompts which I turned into a narrative of Sherlock's thoughts on his wedding day. Many thanks to the people who helped out (most of whom the fic is gifted to). I literally couldn't have written this without you. Also, the wedding vows are not mine; I found them on Google and uploaded them [here](http://s1.postimg.org/ecgcgoo7z/7e7666c1f6b5891fb0d1031b42217d19.jpg) to see if anyone knew who I could give credit to.

**I**

He was so used to people feeding his ego, making him feel like he was God's gift to mankind. He was used to people fawning all over him and hanging on his every word, as much as he actually hated the reality of it. He was used to women, and a few men as well, peering at him with speculative gazes, sizing him up and licking their lips and figuring out and number of ways they could have their wicked way with him. And to be quite honest, he would happily do without it all so long as _she_ gave him a warm smile and an adoring gaze.

He was never sure he did enough for her, never made Molly feel as wanted as she made him feel. When she looked at him, with a look that these days was less shy and more seductive, less wide-eyed and more knowing, he wanted to strut his stuff proudly and proclaim that _she_ had picked _him_. Who cared if the other women in the world thought they were better them her? Fuck the lot of them. None of them held a candle to Margaret Elizabeth Hooper, not a single one of them.

And he wanted to show her, over and over again, when the cares of the world weighed her down. He wanted to put a smile on her face, hold her close until she realized she was the most precious person in all the world, kiss every inch of her until she understood there was never anyone else for him, never had been and never would be. He wanted to protect her, to cherish her, to care for her and to love her, for the rest of his life. That would be a worthwhile way to live.

**II**

There was a knock at the door. Sherlock wasn't expecting anyone, not at three in the morning, not at John and Mary's home, and _certainly_ not while he was in their guest bedroom. But that could only mean it was Molly. Pre-wedding jitters, probably. He had them as well, he realized. Not badly, just a mild case. He went to the door and opened it a crack. It was, technically, the day of their wedding. Bad luck to see the bride, in case it was her and not Mary of John, who probably had the good sense to have gone right back to sleep. "Yes?"

"You left your speech on the bedside table," Molly said from the other side of the door, slipping a hand holding a small stack of index cards through the opening. "I didn't read them, not much. Just the top card, and then I stopped, I swear. But it was lovely. The vows...they're going to be beautiful. You do have the soul of a..." She yawned then. "Poet."

He smiled at that, taking the cards and then grasping her hand, opening the door a little wider. He shifted slightly to kiss her knuckles. "Get back in the cab and go home. Go to sleep. Everything will go smoothly this afternoon and then we'll be man and wife and no one will be able to ruin that, not even my brother." She sleepily chuckled at that. "I love you Molly." He thought he got a vague "Love you too" mixed in with a yawn as she pulled her hand back, and he waited until he heard the front door close before opening the guest bedroom more to lock up behind her. He went to the window and watched her get into the waiting cab. Molly Hooper, soon to be Molly Holmes, his wife, the most wonderful woman in the world. What would he ever do without her?

**III**

John had asked Sherlock how he felt about it being the big day when he joined him and Mary for breakfast that morning. He felt fine, he’d said. He supposed it was a big day, but in a way, it didn’t feel like that. It felt as though this was the rather natural thing to do, to make a promise of this type to love Molly for the rest of their natural lives in front of the people most important to them. There should be no nerves at all, and he’d surprised John when he said that.

But as the hour got nearer, as the “big moment” got closer and closer, he started to feel the onset of nerves, the fluttering in his stomach of what felt like butterflies. He knew it was the absolute right decision, marrying Molly, but he just wanted it all to be perfect. She deserved perfection. He was worried he would stumble over their vows or drop the ring or do anything else that would ruin the day for her.

And soon enough it was time. He was at the altar, the wedding march was playing and all eyes were turned to see the bride come down the aisle. The doors opened and Molly stood there, Mycroft by her side. She’d asked his brother to walk her down the aisle; a peculiar choice, but one he agreed with. And she was stunning. Oh, she was jaw-droppingly gorgeous, with a strapless lace dress and a sapphire blue sash around her waist with a bow on her hip, held there with a diamond brooch. As she came closer, as he raised his jaw up and the grin spread across his face, as it was met with the wide smile on her face, he knew, deep down, that no matter what happened today would be a day worth remembering.

**IV**

She looked at him, with all of the love she felt for him radiating on her face. He was lucky. He was the luckiest man in the world, he realized as she spoke her vows, her voice brimming with warmth and love. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him and she was vowing to do so in front of all of their friends and family and that made him the most fortunate man in all of the world.

Finally it was his turn to speak. He grasped his hands in hers, running his thumb over her knuckles. “Molly, I choose you to be no other than yourself, loving what I know of you, and trusting who you will become. I will respect and honor you always and in all ways. With you I pledge to repair one small piece of the world. I take you to be my spouse, to have and to hold, in tears and in laughter, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward, in this world and the next.” Then he gave her a wide grin. “Tu es l'amour de ma vie.”

Molly grinned widely, gripping his hands tightly. “Oh, I do love it when you speak French,” she said, eliciting a laugh from everyone watching. His own smile grew wider and lifted up her hand, kissing her knuckles, heedless of who was watching. In just a few moments they would be officially married and then he could begin his life with her as his lawfully wedded wife, and life would be pretty damn close to perfect.

**V**

They'd gotten through the ceremony. They'd gotten through the pictures, which had dragged on endlessly, though he supposed he had to be thankful that, unlike in John and Mary's case, at least his photographer had not been an attempted murderer. He and Molly were officially man and wife and he was quite thankful for that. They had each other for the rest of their lives and nothing could pull them asunder either than death or their own stupidity, and as they were both very intelligent people who were quite attuned to each other he doubted their stupidity would do them in.

They were supposed to be making their way to the reception as quickly as they could but Molly needed to change into her second dress, the one without the long train, and she had pulled him into the room to "help." There wasn't much helping going on at the moment, though, as her hands were unbuttoning his waistcoat and he was lowering the zipper of her dress. He got it undone and she pulled away from him, pushing it down and stepping out of it, showing she was in a rather stunning set on lingerie. He licked his lips and she grinned seductively. "You really should help me take this corset off," she said, stepping close again. "It's got quite a few hooks in the back."

He bent his head slightly and pressed a kiss to her pulse point, being careful not to nip at the skin even though he knew she liked that. He could leave marks elsewhere, if he so chose, but only if he thought she could keep quiet. Oh, he was fairly sure everyone knew what they were up to, that they couldn't keep their hands off each other, but this was their wedding day and wasn't it expected? The bride and groom would be so eager for each other they'd shag before the reception. "I suppose this would be helping," he murmured, lips against her skin, as he reached behind her for the first hook, dutiful husband that he was.

**VI**

They approached the wedding cake together. It was a beautiful creation, six tiers of vanilla cake with cherry filling, as a nod to Molly's favorite jumper, and the lightest whipped butter cream frosting that he had ever tasted. He was a chocolate person himself but when the baker had given them this to sample he had been quite enamored with it, as had Molly. It had been love at first bite.

She picked up the knife they would be using to cut into the cake and then he placed his hands over hers as they positioned it above the cake. Slowly they pressed down, cutting into it once, then lifting into it and cutting into it again. They had agreed prior to today not to do anything foolish such as smashing their slice of cake in each other’s faces, but he could see a gleam in his wife’s eye so he braced himself for having cherry filling on his cheek as opposed to in his mouth.

Once their slice was on the plate she picked up the fork and speared off a portion for him. He raised an eyebrow slightly, looking at her. She gave him an innocent smile and motioned with the fork, and then he opened his mouth, allowing her to feed him. The cake today was just as good as the sample he had had a month ago. Perhaps even better, he mused. And then he abruptly realized while he’d had his eyes shut, savoring the delicate tastes that played on his tongue his wife had taken a fingertip full of frosting and dabbed it on his nose. This? This meant war.

**VII**

Everyone had thought that Sherlock would compose their first dance as husband and wife, but he’d composed the music that the attendants and Molly had come down the aisle to. No, when they had been planning their wedding she had asked if she could pick the song that they danced to. She’d wanted it to be a surprise, and she’d seemed so eager to do it, so he hadn’t had a problem with that. He had to admit, though, he was quite curious to see what his wife had up her sleeve.

They made their way to the dance floor and he looked at her. She gave him a wide smile. “I hope your Viennese waltz is up to par,” she said as the beginning strains of Johann Strauss II’s “Kiss” waltz filled the reception area. She could have picked something slow for them to be close to, or modern that might or might not grate on his ears, but she had instead picked one of his favorite pieces of music and shown she wanted to put on a show for their guests. Then by all means, he thought to himself as he took her across the floor, they should.

When it was over he pulled her close against her as she caught her breath, tipping her chin up. She had to have been taking lessons for quite some time to be as good as she had been, he thought to himself. He was quite proud of her dedication to reach that skill level, and touched that she had done so much to pull off such a wonderful surprise. And as he tipped her chin up to kiss her, he realized he would always be proud of her, in everything she did, because she was honestly one of those people in the world who made the world a better place just by being in it.

**VIII**

It was almost over. The speeches had been made, the meal had been eaten, the cake had been cut, the first dance had been danced. It was almost time to make their escape, to leave their friends and family and head off together, as man and wife, and enjoy two weeks of just each other’s company. He hoped there would be no emergencies, no psychopaths, no cases and no dead bodies to interfere with the two weeks that he wanted to lavish his wife with all of his undivided attention.

His wife. He watched from the sleek black sedan that was to take them away from the reception as the love of his life tossed her bouquet behind her and all of the eligible bachelorettes made a grab for it, elbowing others out of the way. She would no longer be among them at any other weddings she attended, he thought as she turned to him with a smile and came up to him. “I am so ready to go,” she said as she got close enough for him to pull her against him.

He dipped his head low and captured his lips against hers, pleased that she smiled against them and wound her arms around his neck. The crowd of their assorted loved ones cheered but he didn’t care, focused only on her, wanting her close, eager to get to their hotel and to start lavishing her with attention. “As you wish,” he murmured when they broke apart, before she slipped inside the car and he followed, shutting the door behind him. The car pulled away then and they were off, on the start of their brand new life together…and what a wonderful start it was.


End file.
